


iron tears down pluto's cheek

by karmannghiaburana



Series: Greek Tragedy Sheith [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Orpheus and Eurydice Myth, Some references to The Libation Bearers as well because we love a Greek tragedy, narti is alive by magic do not question this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 21:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16982400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karmannghiaburana/pseuds/karmannghiaburana
Summary: Keith's loyalties are torn between the Blade of Marmora, Voltron, and Shiro, after it is discovered that Haggar has replaced Shiro with a clone. He finds himself in a race against the the clock to rescue Shiro from a remote Galra prison planet with the help of some unlikely allies.





	iron tears down pluto's cheek

**Author's Note:**

> “He drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek and make Hell grant what Love did seek. ”
> 
> ― Edith Hamilton, Mythology: Timeless Tales of Gods and Heroes

Any pride Keith felt at being allowed to run his reconnaissance mission by himself was overshadowed by the fact that it was a fairly banal mission. It had barely taken him twenty minutes to run from the transport ship commandeered by the Blade of Marmora to the room that housed this battle cruiser’s main memory server banks four decks below. Another five to input the codes he’d been given and download any new weapon plans, and he was back on his way out. He took his time, knowing that some of the other reconnaissance teams wouldn’t be done for at least another hour, he needed to avoid an altercation if only for their sakes. He timed his movements, running from alcove to alcove between each pair of patrolling Galra. Rounding a corner as he retraced his steps, he heard a faint alarm sounding in the distance. * Keith registered the sounds of a squadron of guards rushing down the main hall, he turned down an unfamiliar route to avoid them, ducking too quickly around the corner, and slamming his left side into the bulkhead. He cursed under his breath, shook himself and kept running down the winding halls until he was safely away from the guards. Keith tapped his left vambrace, but instead of initialising a hologram of the cruiser’s floor plans it flickered twice before sputtering out. He tapped it a few more times to no avail.  
“Keith, you’re off course, get out of there,” came Kolivan’s voice over the comm in his ear.  
Before Keith could answer he heard footsteps coming down the hall behind him, he looked around trying to find the fastest escape. His eyes darted around, not seeing anything helpful. Patience yields focus, came Shiro’s voice in Keith’s mind. He took a deep breath, eyes scanning the hallway more carefully this time. Ahead he saw a door slightly ajar, he ran to it and, finding the room behind it empty, slipped inside. He slowed his breathing, trying to make as little noise as possible. He could hear the voices getting louder as they approached.  
“Finish draining any remaining quintessence you can from the Champion, then transfer him to Tartarus, I have no more use for him,” came a familiar voice.  
“It will be so,” came the voice of Druid. Keith felt frigid tendrils of fear creeping up his spine and through every limb, he had fought the Druids before, killed one even, but he didn’t have the advantage this time. There was no Voltron or Red Lion to back him up, no army of rebels, if they found Keith they would easily overpower him. Shiro hadn’t spoken at length about what the Druids did to him, but it was enough for Keith to know he never wanted to be at their mercy.  
“Keith, what are you doing? Move!” There was a hint of anger in Kolivan’s voice now.  
“The witch is here,” Keith answered as quietly as he could. “Just leave without me.”  
“We have time, I still have three teams on this battle cruiser,” Kolivan seemed to pause and consider his words, “Tread carefully, Keith.”  
“I will.”  
Keith could still hear Haggar and her Druids nearing, he took a moment to pray to whatever gods were listening that they wouldn’t enter the room where he hid. He moved towards the crack in the door to check how many they were. He saw four Druids surrounding Haggar as she passed the door, there was little chance he could fight them. He needed to be as silent as possible. Just as he moved away from the door the witch turned to him, Keith’s breath caught and he felt his entire body freeze. He was certain she had seen him, her gaze never left his face, but she continued on.  
A voice spoke in his head, Vrepit Sa. Keith felt shaken to the core, as soon as the procession passed around the corner at the end of the hall he spoke to Kolivan over the comm.  
“My map is damaged, how do I get back to deck four?” Keith asked.  
“Be patient,” Kolivan intoned calmly, “I’ll lead you out, Keith.”  
Keith followed his instructions to the rendezvous point without looking back. He made his way into the Blade’s ship, briefly acknowledging Kolivan. One team still remained on the cruiser, Keith tried to use the time it would take them to return to clear his mind and order his thoughts. All he got for his efforts was the beginnings of a splitting headache. He felt his thoughts involuntarily shift through his fingers like sand. Distant memories, thoughts, and plans coming to the forefront of his mind completely at random.  
“Keith,” came Kolivan’s voice, “you’re quieter than usual.”  
“I…” Keith found himself unable to form a coherent response.  
“The final team has returned, we’re ready to embark, sir,” yelled Xenar from the cockpit.  
“We will discuss the matter later,” Kolivan promised, moving away to discuss the intel retrieved by one of the other groups. “Engage our cloaking systems and disengaging from the ship.”  
The nightmares began as soon as the mission ended, but they became steadily worse over the next week. Keith slept fitfully, flashes of rooms lit with a dark purple light, an unfamiliar enemy base, a familiar voice. Disjointed pieces remained in his mind the next morning as joined a few other blades for their morning meal, Regris called him for training and he forgot completely what had troubled his sleep. Keith chose to ignore the dreams, he wasn’t one for taking stock in superstitions and couldn’t remember any important details. Kolivan had fixed him with a few calculating concerned looks but otherwise made no comment towards to dark circles under Keith’s eyes, as long as Keith performed his duties on base nothing could be said.  
Finally, three weeks after the encounter with the witch, Kolivan approached him with the information his teams had collected. Keith met him personally in his office to debrief before they brought their findings to the Castle of Lions.  
Kolivan didn’t greet him, instead he gave him a sharp once over before speaking, “Keith, you seem unwell.”  
Keith frowned, he couldn’t think of a way to tell Kolivan about his disturbed sleep without it sounding like a childish complaint. “I haven’t been sleeping well,” he settled for.  
Kolivan paused, frowning, “Keith, you must bring your troubles to me. I can help you.”  
“You’re busy,” Keith insisted, “I don’t want to bother you.”  
“You are like a son to me, I feel responsible for you,” Kolivan admitted.  
“I don’t want to feel like you have to help me because I’m some orphan you feel you owe it to.”  
“It’s nothing like that,” Kolivan pressed, “Perhaps you remind of myself in some ways, when I was younger. But, Keith, ultimately I only want to protect you because you are what I want all Galra to be like. If this war ends, at any point in the near future, I would want other young Galra to be more like you. I have hope, perhaps someday...”  
Keith blinked quickly, unsure how to handle such praise for the leader of the Blades. “I learned from the best.”  
Kolivan appeared tense, Keith couldn’t recall a time his leader had ever appeared so unsure. His yellow eyes shifted quickly, downcast then passing over Keith’s face. “I have a mission file for you that is highly sensitive. Remember not to let your emotions affect the mission.”  
For better in Keith’s opinion, and for worse in Kolivan’s, they never had time to discuss anything beyond their duty. There had been five reconnaissance teams on this mission, mercifully each made it back to debrief individually with Kolivan and Antok, Keith was last to meet with them and discuss what took place. Antok arrived, cutting short whatever heart to heart moment Kolivan had intended. The taller Galra reviewed Keith’s reports, quickly jumping into questioning.  
“And you’re certain the witch spoke in your mind,” Antok’s face remained relatively blank as he questioned Keith at length. Kolivan by contrast stayed quiet, and seemed to be barely concealing an expression of horror.  
“The witch was in my head,” Keith confirms, “but she passed me by.”  
“Do you believe she gained access to any sensitive information within your thoughts, about the Blade of Marmora or Voltron,” Antok continued.  
Keith’s eyes widened, “I didn’t give her any information! All she did was speak to me!”  
Antok let out a deep sigh before he spoke quietly, “Based on information collected today we will begin a mission, this will be our most confidential mission yet, and you will be included. The information we will share with you is highly sensitive. If you are in any way compromised to the Empire we must know, to protect all of us, especially you.”  
“Kolivan, I swear, I didn’t give her any information,” Keith assured, “I’m not compromised, I can be on this mission.”  
Antok appeared unconvinced but ultimately it was Kolivan’s choice to make as the leader of the Blades, and Kolivan’s hesitation was brief before he handed over a datapad with the mission files.  
“Since our battle at Galra Central Command we have been collecting information on a curious series of experiments,” Kolivan began to explain. “While Thace was stationed under Haggar’s command he discovered her research on genetic manipulation.”  
Keith scrolled through the datapad, glancing and the file titles in passing. Galra Genome Project. Galra/Alien Genetic Compatibility Project. Hybrid Gene Sequencing Project. Galra Eugenic Project. Project Kuron I.  
“That the Galra Empire has sought to create a master race of genetically perfect pure Galra soldiers in common knowledge by now,” Antok sounded disgusted, “Rather ironic considering where the Emperor sowed his seed.”  
“Keith, it is of the utmost importance that you do not let your emotions compromise this mission,” Kolivan emphasised before continuing. “We believe the Galra are capable of cloning not only other Galra but creating hybrids, and cloning other species. They no longer need anything beyond the witch, her druids, and a sample of genetic material.”  
Keith found himself unable to make the connections between the information Kolivan gave him. “They just grow them in a lab?”  
“They are now capable of growing an adult clone of any species within a year,” said Antok.  
Keith still needed clarification, despite their secrecy the Blade was not normally so obtuse when relaying him marching orders. “So what’s the mission?”  
“Before the Black Paladin returned to Earth, Ulaz was responsible for replacing his defective human arm with a mechanic upgrade,” Kolivan began, “But according to Ulaz’s mission reports the witch may still have the human limb in storage, along with any number of samples of alien DNA.”  
Keith felt like he’d been doused in ice water, “You think she cloned Shiro?”  
“No, Keith,” Kolivan was deadly serious, “We know she did.”  
“What?” Keith question was a pained whisper, it felt like all the air had left his lungs. Had the Empire not violated Shiro enough? Keith thought.  
“Your mission will be to return to the Castle of Lions, and determine whether the Black Paladin is aware he is a clone, and how the witch is using him.”  
The rest of the meeting passed as a blur, Keith at once furious and exhausted. It seemed impossible that Shiro could be an imposter, but then again he couldn’t prove otherwise. When he superimposed his image of Shiro as he knew him before he was taken by the Galra, the men were hardly recognisably the same. But a year in Galra captivity left it’s marks on Shiro, and Keith was still willing to believe that all of Shiro’s actions could be explained as the logical culmination of being tortured at the hands of his fellow desperate peers and sadistic Galra soldiers.  
To a certain degree the experimentation made sense, why send a prisoner to fight if you knew he had an expiration date? Shiro had known before he left for Kerberos that he had no more than four years before his muscle began to noticeably atrophy, he’d told Keith as much. It would make sense for the Galra to replace the arm that had already been the most affected. Assuming Haggar had needed living test subjects for her experiments Keith could see how Shiro might have had his condition stalled or reversed completely. But he still couldn’t find it within himself to believe that the body he’d recovered was an imposter. He needed more evidence to prove to himself the veracity of Kolivan’s claims.  
The questions of clones and witches continued to plague Keith as he prepared for his mission. He wouldn’t return to the Castle of Lions for another week and a half, the the mean time he found himself wrung out in every sense. The nightmares worsened at times blurring with his waking reality. His waking reality was becoming a nightmare in and of itself. The Blade of Marmora had suffered inumerable losses over the course of their existence, but since they had joined the offensive against Zarkon their numbers had taken a swift hit. In the past few weeks alone Keith had heard reports of the deaths of several Blades with whom he considered himself close. Leaving for the Castle would provide a brief respite from the ache of so much loss. But it was out of the frying pan and into the fire, there was little relief in investigating the possible betrayal of the person he had trusted most.  
With solemn resignation Keith packed himself into a tiny cloaked Galra fighter and headed to the wormhole point closest to the Marmora headquarters. Allura had already scheduled for his arrival. Within moments the wormhole opened before him, and he soon found himself piloting the familiar path towards the Castle’s ship bay. Keith hesitated to leave his ship, noting that only Shiro had arrived to great his return this time. His hands left the controls and he sank into his chair with a heavy sigh. He closed his eyes, silently steeling himself against what was to come over the next few days. Then resolutely he stood and made his way to where shiro waited at the bay’s entrance.  
“Keith,” Shiro greeted. He smiled as he walked forward to meet Keith in his approach, offering, welcoming him with a familiar embrace. “It’s good to have you back.”  
“It’s good to be back,” Keith answered with some reserve, he face tucked against Shiro’s shoulder. He felt safe and secure in this place and found himself trying to swallow past the lump forming in his throat. He squeezed eyes shut and tried to focus on the task at hand, had to remain unbiased but he didn’t want to believe the man in front of him was a clone.  
“Are you alright?” Shiro asked. He pulled back slightly to look Keith in the face, Keith could barely meet his concerned expression.  
“Kolivan had me running some intense missions, I’m just really, really tired,” Keith lied. This seemed to pacify Shiro. He hung his human arm over Keith shoulders and lead him towards the elevator to the main floors of the Castle.  
“Let’s go meet the others on the bridge. We can get you some food and rest after that,” Shiro promised.  
Keith gave him a wan smile, “Sounds good.”


End file.
